


I Will Return

by ClockworkDinosaur (orphan_account)



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mourning, The Vice Quadrant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ClockworkDinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Holly's fiance Peter is killed in a freak spaceship explosion, she finds a way to cope with the words she never got to say to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They stood by the space ship _Cosmo_ , surrounded by scientists and other astronauts, but Holly was only there for him, only saw his blue eyes and light hair and the grin that never seemed to quite reach his eyes unless he was alone with her.

“I promise I'll be back soon, before you know it.” Peter said, and Holly had no reason not to believe him with her entire heart. Still, she clung desperately to him, her hands pressed against the thick, cold material of his space suit, desperate to find the warmth of his skin one last time before he went off into space for months. His tired blue eyes, always a bit sad, even underneath his current excitement, traced every feature of her face.

“Come here.” he said, pulling her close. He buried his face in her soft golden hair, committing her scent to memory as best as he could. She clung to his chest, silent as tears choked her, but didn't spill. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, his arms still around her tightly.

“ _I told you I'd hold you. Hold you 'til the morning light. You saved me, I'll save you. Save ourselves from our own plight..._ ” he sang the familiar words like a lullaby, and Holly felt the reverberations in his chest through her entire body.

When his radio went off with a burst of static, Holly's heart dropped. Peter took a step back, squeezing her hand one last time before getting ready to let go. Before he could, Holly pressed a locket into his hand, closing his gloved fingers over the golden heart. He pressed the necklace to his own heart with a smile before slipping it into his chest pocket. She watched him walk away, her heart safely tucked away near his own, and her tears finally began to fall.

“I'll come back, just as I left!” he called, stepping into the strangely shaped spacecraft that would be his home for many months. The doors hissed shut behind him, and then he was gone.

 

He was only in space for half an hour before things went horribly wrong.

The blue beam tore through Peter's ship, the metal shell melting away like ice, and hit him squarely in the chest. He watched it race for him with a detached sort of confusion and fear, before seeing nothing but blue.

Holly could see the explosion from the ground. She didn't realize she was screaming until her lungs and throat were burning and black spots danced in her vision. Nobody seemed to pay her any mind, those around her too preoccupied with watching the sky with horror.

“Peter!” she managed to cry out with her raw throat, and one of the scientists noticed her. His face was worn with sorrow as he pulled Holly into the building and away from the fading blue spot in the black sky.

She didn't see the purple streak of light touch down on the field outside the facility, and disappear again into the void of space.

 

Walter Manor was too cold and empty without him. Holly herself felt cold and empty, bleakness blending the days and weeks into each other, featureless and gray spans of time spent in sorrow. She had cried herself numb, then stopped crying altogether until the manor was silent and everyone was asleep. The maids were subdued, only giving her sympathetic glances as she passed and rarely stopping to offer kind words. The automatons were just as quiet, mostly keeping to themselves as they mourned. Nobody talked to Holly, and she was thankful. She wasn't sure she was even capable of speaking anymore.

Holly's footsteps echoed through the silent halls when she wandered during her sleepless nights. She spent a few hours spent trying to lose herself in the labyrinthine manor, to no avail since she always ended up back at the room they had shared. She stopped walking.

The door was shut, as it had been since she'd taken her things out of the room and left his, moving to another room on the other side of the manor. Her hand rested lightly on the doorknob. With a flutter of apprehension, she turned the knob for the first time in over two months.

His things were in the same place he had left them. The bed was still unmade. The maids had left this room as it was, afraid to disturb anything. On his bedside table, an astronomy book sat open and forever unfinished. His clothes were still haphazardly folded, aside from the ones he had left wrinkled on the floor or draped over the side of a chair. Peter had never been one for organization and could be rather scatter-brained at times, except when it came to science. It was a Walter family trait, Holly had learned early on in their relationship.

She ran her fingers over his pillow, over his books, over his clothes, barely touching anything but unable to resist physical contact with things he had held dear.

But they were just things. And as silly as it seemed, she was hoping she would feel him there, somehow. The things he left behind didn't comfort her.

She left the room emptier than she had before, the last hope that she would feel his comfort gone.

* * *

He remembered her. He hadn't seen her in decades, centuries, millenniums. Or did he? Hadn't he just left? He couldn't remember how long he had been like this. He didn't remember how long ago it had been since he'd felt her pressed against him, her soft hand in his and her bright eyes looking up to his in their special way that made the clouds in his mind part.

But he _did_ remember her. It was impossible to forget the sun.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Slowly, Holly began feeling again. When she left her room one morning, she found herself face to face- or face to chest really, considering his height- with The Spine.

“Oh, my apologies, Miss Holly.” the tall silver automaton said, tipping his wide-brimmed fedora as she took a clumsy step backwards.

“I-It's fine!” she said, her voice hoarse from disuse. She hadn't seen the bots up close in a while; aside from herself and Wanda, they were the closest with Peter, and had been mourning in their own separate ways. She cleared her throat and tried speaking again.

“It's... good to see you, Spine. How are you doing?” she asked.

“As well as expected.” he said, shrugging a bit. “Peter's... the accident hasn't been... well, it's been hard for everyone recently.”

Holly nodded, surprised at the usually eloquent robot's struggle with words. She realized he was trying not to upset her by saying something wrong. A twinge of affection sparked in her chest. Although she had never married into the Walter family, she was treated as such, and before Peter's death, she and the automatons had been as close as siblings. She realized that she had missed them.

“So where are you headed off to?” Holly asked, she and The Spine walking side-by side down the winding hallway.

“Nowhere in particular.” he admitted. “It's a rather nice day, I was considering going outside for a walk. Care to join me?” The Spine asked.

“That sounds nice, I'd love to.” Holly said. She actually couldn't remember the last time she had been outside since Peter's funeral.

They walked outside, the sunlight glinting off of the metal robot as the two made their way at a leisurely pace across the Manor's grounds. Holly squinted in the early afternoon light, feeling the sun on her skin for the first time in months. She took a deep breath, realizing how long she had been inside, how long it had been since she'd breathed fresh air.

“How have you been holding up, Holly?” The Spine asked, all formalities dropped. Holly sighed.

“It's... It's been hell, Spine, I'm not going to lie. I miss him so much...” She took a steadying breath. “I keep thinking maybe I'll wake up at some point and it all would have been a dream, as cliche as that sounds. I don't know...” she trailed off, words flying through her mind before she could form them into coherent sentences.

The Spine nodded. “I understand completely. Dealing with the death of someone you held so dear is the hardest thing to do. But you aren't alone, okay?” he said softly.

Holly nodded. “Thank you, Spine.”

They walked together for another half hour before heading back to the manor, Holly feeling more content, if not happy, than she had in a while. The Spine escorted her inside before tipping his wide-brimmed fedora and heading off on his own.

Holly made her way up the stairs, but instead of making a left to make her way to her room, she made a right, heading to the room she and Peter had shared. She hesitated outside the door again before stepping inside, making sure the door clicked shut behind her.

It was still exactly the same. She didn't expect it to be different, but the fact the room seemed completely frozen in time unsettled her. She made her way to the desk where Peter had often sketched plans for simple space probes and space-traveling automatons; his passion for engineering and curiosity about space going well together. Holly understood the basics of his designs, but where Peter had been more mathematical, she was more linguistically minded. His papers were still in semi-organized piles on the desk, and Holly was afraid to disturb them. She took a seat in the creaking desk chair, looking over everything but afraid to touch anything.

A few minutes passed before she reached for one of the blank pads of paper that were laying on the desk, and a pen that had been tossed casually on the nearest stack of papers. With a shaking and, she began writing, her usually neat cursive handwriting jittery as her hand moved across the paper and the words that had been stuck inside of her head forming cohesive sentences.

 

_Dearest Peter,_

_I miss you. I miss you more than you will ever know. I would give anything at all for you to walk through the door right now, to hold me in your arms and tell me everything will be okay, like you said you would. Like you promised._

_I had always tried to be strong for you, but now I realize that you were_ making _me strong. You saved me, I saved you, remember? Without you_

 

Holly stopped writing mid-sentence. She didn't realize she had been crying until her tears blotted the ink on the paper, leaving unintelligible letters and dark stains. She put down the pen and took a deep breath. Letting out the words that had been crowding her mind for months, even if they weren't spoken out loud, helped her more than she thought. She tore the unfinished letter from the pad, wiped her eyes, and headed back to her room, feeling surprisingly light.

 

* * *

 

_Fly with me, spaceman._

That was her note to him, stuck in the golden locket next to an old photograph, faded and torn from centuries of wear. Centuries for him, but not for her. The girl with the freckles and the long golden hair, the grin that never seemed to leave her face and made her eyes shine.

Holly.

He wondered if she was still alive. He felt his chest tighten in fear for the first time since he had been hit by the beam that made him this way, all-powerful and _different_. The beam that changed him, turned him into someone else who wasn't Peter Walter.

Peter Walter was the one she was smiling at. Peter Walter, with the light brown hair and light eyes. Peter Walter was the one she loved.

Not Commander Cosmo.

For the first time since he had been changed, he felt fear. Fear that she was long dead, that there was no more Holly in the universe to make it bright. Fear that she was still alive, and if she knew he was alive, somehow, in a changed state, that she would hate him.

Clutching the locket in his hand, he turned for Earth.

He had to know.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was three in the morning when Holly woke up with a strangled gasp, shaking and teary-eyed. Peter had made an appearance in her dream, as he often did, but this time it was different.

She saw him get on the spaceship, saw him wave goodbye. Instead of waving back or screaming for him to stop as she usually did, she ran forward, desperate to be with him. The doors hissed closed behind her, and Peter wrapped her in his arms again. Even through the spacesuit, she could smell him, feel the warmth of his skin and the gentleness of his touch. She clung to him, refusing to let go. Before she realized it, they were in space. Outside the narrow window. she saw Earth far below and the void that expanded behind the planet. Holly only gave the window a cursory glance before she looked back at Peter, wanting to drink in every aspect of his appearance.

Peter's face was twisted into an expression of agony. Holly watched with horror as the ship began falling apart around her. She opened her mouth to scream as blue light tore the ship apart, but the breath left her lungs and sound was swallowed by the vacuum of space. She reached for Peter as he drifted away, terror making his eyes wild as he disappeared with the rest of the spaceship.

Holly stared at the ceiling, her breath harsh in the silence. Hot tears found their way out of her eyes, and she wiped them away absently. She sat up, knowing there was very little chance of her going back to sleep that night. Pushing the blankets off of herself, she stood, the cool air of the room immediately chilling her. She ignored it, absentmindedly putting on a pair of slippers and making her way out into the hallway.

Without even thinking about it, Holly ended up in front of the room she and Peter had shared. As if she wasn't in control of her body, she opened the door, shut it behind her, and made her way to the desk again. The dream was still fresh in her mind as she began writing.

 

_Dearest Peter,_

_I shouldn't have let you go. I was afraid, I_ knew _something bad would happen. I could have begged and pleaded for you to stay. Why didn't I? Why did you have to go? If I had just said something, you would still be here. I wish that I could be like the ocean... She never needs to ask why._

_This is my fault. You were my spaceman, and I encouraged you to go. Look what happened._

_We would have had our wedding by now. We were both so excited. The bots and Wanda were too. I would have been Holly Walter, a part of the family. Now I'm a lonely lady only, and it hurts. I'm alone in every way without you. No real family ties, nowhere to go._

_I miss you. I miss belonging somewhere._

  _Forever Yours, Holly._

 

Her hands shook as she tore the page away from the pad of paper, folding it up and putting it in her nightgown pocket. Looking at the clock as it chimed four o'clock, she realized just how exhausted she was. After a moment's hesitation, she curled up on the bed she had once shared with Peter and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

 

She woke up to mismatched photoreceptors inches from her face. Gasping, she sat up, very nearly bashing her head into Rabbit's as the automaton leaned back quickly.

“S-s-sorry, Miss Holly! We were lookin' for yas ev-ev-everywhere!” Rabbit sad, relief evident in the robot's heavily accented and stuttering voice.

“I'm sorry.” Holly said quietly. “I had a nightmare last night...” she stood up, rubbing her arms as goosebumps rose on her skin. The morning was cold, especially evident in the rarely-used bedroom. Rabbit gave her a sympathetic look.

“I un-understand nightmares.” Rabbit sighed. “Even if I am j-j-just a robot, I still got bad mem-mem-memories that ain't goin' away. They pop up at the worst times. I g-g-guess those are kinda like nightmares.”

Holly nodded, and Rabbit went on. “But I c-c-can assure ya, Holly, that things get easier. Just gotta g-g-give it time, ya know?”

“Thank you, Rabbit.” she said, smiling a bit at the copper automaton. Though it was a sentiment she had heard many times before, it seemed more sincere coming from the automaton who had gone through as much as she had, if not more.

“Now, let me es-es-escort ya to your room. It would be my honor, and plus I gotta let the guys and everyone else kn-kn-know you're alright.” Rabbit said, offering an arm with an understanding smile on black-painted lips.

“Thank you.” Holly repeated with a nod, and arm in arm the two headed out.

After a moment of walking, Holly looked up to the tall automaton with raised eyebrows. “Wait, people were looking for me?” she asked.

“Well, yeah. When one of th-th-the maids saw that ya weren't in your room, people started worryin'.” the robot paused. “P-p-people who are grievin' d-don't tend to think clearly.”

Rabbit had said it delicately, but Holly knew what the robot meant.

“You all think I went to go off myself.” Holly said bluntly. Rabbit flinched.

“N-no! Nothin' like... _that._ We were just w-w-worried, is all.” Rabbit didn't meet Holly's eyes. They continued to Holly's room in silence.

“I wouldn't do anything like that, you know.” Holly said, once they were in front of her door.

“I kn-kn-know.” Rabbit said nodding. “I guess it's just... We've already l-l-lost a lot recently. It's scary. We're all kinda w-worryin' it might happen again.” Rabbit looked down, voice soft. “None of us wanna lose anyone else.”

“I'll be fine, Rabbit. I won't be going anywhere any time soon.” Holly said, taking the robot's copper hand. “Thank you again for escorting me to my room” she said. Rabbit smiled.

“D-d-don't mention it Holly! I'll see ya around.” With a hat-tilt, Rabbit was gone.

Holly turned into her room with a sigh. She hadn't meant to worry anyone, she didn't even really mean to end up in that room. She didn't know what possessed her to write another letter to Peter. The other one sat in her bedside drawer, and the one she had written that night joined it.

In a way, she admitted to herself, it was nice to see the words that had been so disorganized in her head on paper. It was nice to pretend that maybe someday, Peter would read her letters. She knew that was impossible, but she still sat down at the desk in he room, much more bare than the one that Peter had used more often in their shared room, and pulled out several sheets of paper.

 

_Dearest Peter,_

_There was a time when I would see you in my dreams, alive and well, and we were together. Now you're in my nightmares and I had to live your final moments with you, helpless to stop you from drifting away. I woke up in tears and sometimes I wonder if I'll drown in them. I wish that I could be like the desert; he never seems to cry._

_At least I no longer spend my days with tears running down my face. Now it's only at night when there are no pitying glances, no threat of a knock at the door. In this regard, maybe I've gotten stronger. Maybe. Or perhaps I just have some amount of self control._

_That doesn't mean I don't miss you though._

_You used to call me your poet, and though I never thought myself much of a poet, I know that writing these letters helps. I think that's what poetry is, writing with emotion._

_Or maybe it's just because I'm a silly romantic._

_I would give anything to hear you call me your poet again._

 

_Yours Forever, Holly._

 

She didn't read the letter over before folding it up and putting it in the drawer with the others. Writing to Peter did help her a bit, she admitted to herself, even if it was ultimately pointless. Peter would never read them. He was never coming home.

 

* * *

 

Earth looked just how he remembered it. He watched the clouds move over the continents, the ocean that seemed so uniform and calm from his position in the stars, the land that dotted the Earth in green and brown and white masses. The tightness in his chest returned.

Was she still there, walking and breathing and lighting up the world with her words and her smile? He didn't know, and that scared him. He was said to be omnipotent, and though he knew he was close, he couldn't see everything.

Most importantly, most terrifyingly, he couldn't see _her._

With the locket still in-hand, he sat on the moon and waited for the darkness of night to cover his former home.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Holly was alone in her room one evening when hot rage bubbled its way into her chest. It came out of nowhere- up until that point she had been feeling somewhat numb. But the rage, all encompassing and blinding, washed over her, making her hands shake and her eyes water. With clenched teeth and balled fists she paced her room.

It was his own fault. When the thought occurred to her she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide.

It _was_ his own fault for going. He should have known how dangerous the trip would be. She shook her head. How could he have known that a freak blast would annihilate his spaceship? That wasn't something that could be predicted.

But still, Holly's hands still shook and her heart pounded. Helplessness and rage warred in her head. With three long steps across her room, she was at the desk, paper and pen in hand.

 

_Peter_

_You shouldn't have left you should have STAYED why didn't you just_ _ STAY _ _so you would still be alive and I wouldn't spend my days missing you? YOU'RE GONE NOW and I miss you please why did you leave don't leave I should have said it don't LEAVE_ _ why didn't I stop you?? _

 

Holly sobbed as the pen flew across the paper, her letters jagged and nearly unreadable as sentences spilled into others.

 

_You told me_ _ you told me _ _you would hold me and you're GONE you're GONE NOW and god I miss you why did you leave_

_why didn't I stop you? You shouldn't have gone you shouldn't have GONE you're gone you're gone you're GONE and i'm so sorry_

 

She stopped when tears blurred her vision too much for her to write anymore. Her ragged breaths echoed in the small room and she did her best to calm herself, going into her bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Her pale freckled face stared at her in the mirror, her eyes red-rimmed and her long hair disheveled. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned away and stormed out of her room. Nobody stopped her as she made her way to the room she and Peter had shared.

She didn't even know why she wanted to be there. There was nothing for her to do except sit and feel miserable, she realized, and she could have done that in her room. But the familiar room was comforting, and the rage that had driven her was ebbing away, leaving exhaustion in its place. Without thinking, she laid in the bed, curling up on Peter's side without bothering to cover herself in the thick blanket, and slept.

 

 

The manor hadn't changed. He realized that, as long as he had been traveling, it hadn't been nearly as long for Earth. Hope flared in his chest, chasing away the fear that had been there whenever he considered that Holly was dead. Night cloaked him in darkness as he found a side entrance unlocked. He didn't want anyone to know he was there and alive- or in whatever undead state he was trapped in. He couldn't bear to face his family and those he loved as he was.

A monster. Dead but walking. Powerful and inhuman.

Silently, he made his way down the empty hallways and past silent rooms. He knew if he heard anyone he could be out of the manor in a nanosecond, but everyone seemed to be asleep. He found their room without thinking, opening the door silently.

Holly slept deeply, lines of sorrow etched into her face, even while asleep.

But she was alive. She was okay. Commander Cosmo let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding since he entered the manor.

Holly's long hair was in wild tangles around her face, her skin much paler than he had ever seen it. Freckles stood out like constellations on her skin, and he couldn't resist tailing one finger down her face, feeling the warmth from her skin and soaking it in like the sun. She stirred a bit, her eyelids fluttering a bit. Cosmo held his breath, taking a few steps back, but Holly didn't wake up.

He lingered for a moment, knowing with absolute certainty that he would never see her again. He committed every part of her to memory. He was about to leave when he remembered the locket he still had.

He looked between the sleeping woman and the locket in his hand. Carefully, he pulled the photograph from the necklace, and set it within a frame. Seconds later, he returned with a rose. He left both of those things on the desk, brushed a kiss across Holly's face, and was gone.

 

Holly slept well that night, for the first time in many months. She woke up surrounded by Peter's familiar scent that still lingered on his pillow. She was tempted to continue lying there for a while, but the window was wide open, letting in a draft.

Her eyes flew open.

The window hadn't been open when she fell asleep.

She bolted upright, looking at the window with confusion. Getting out of bed, she closed the window firmly. It wasn't a loose window, it couldn't have opened on its own. Her eyebrows were knitted as she turned around, and saw a bright flower on the desk next to a frame.

She blinked. She certainly didn't put that there. With legs that felt weak and unstable, she walked towards the desk. When she got closer, she recognized the photograph.

It had come from her own locket. The locket that she had given to Peter, just before he left. A photograph of herself and Peter, her lips pulled into a wide grin and Peter looking at her with a soft expression.

Holly's breath caught in her throat. This wasn't possible. The locket was gone, just like Peter. There was only one copy of that photograph and he had it when he died. _This wasn't possible._

Her mind reeled. Peter was gone, but nobody else could have done this. Nobody had this photograph except him.

A million questions buzzed in her mind. If, somehow, Peter was alive, and he had been here, why didn't he say anything to her? Why had he only left the photograph? Why didn't he stay?

Maybe Peter was telling her goodbye.

Her hands shook as she stared at the photograph. He said goodbye. He was done with her, though probably not in a malicious way. He cared enough to say goodbye. But he wasn't coming back to her.

He had made his choice, and there she made hers.

Grabbing the photo and the flower, she made her way to her room, making sure to close and lock the door to the room she had shared with Peter behind her. She tossed the things on her bed, opened up the drawer that had the notes she had written to him, and tossed them next to the flower and picture. Opening her closet, she pulled out an empty box. Carefully, the folded letters, the photo, and the flower were laid in the box. With a long piece of ribbon, she tied it shut and shoved it into the very back of her closet.

Peter had said his goodbyes, she had finally said hers.

 

* * *

 

The manor was mourning. Holly had lived a long life, but to the automatons it had felt like they had only known her for a short time. Humans grew old, they knew, and they got sick. Death was natural for them.

It still hurt every time they had to say goodbye.

Rabbit liked to be alone when she was missing someone. It gave her time to process things, without the distractions of her brothers or Petes or anyone else. She needed the silence every once in a while. She checked again to make sure her WiFi was turned off so nobody would bother her as she wandered aimlessly. The thunderstorm outside kept her from wandering around the cemetery as she usually did, and she resigned herself to a day indoors in the rarely-used wing of the manor.

She found herself in front of Holly's room. She hesitated outside, hand resting on the doorknob. Slowly, she tested it, expecting it to be locked, but it swung open easily. The room was dark and she hesitated before stepping inside, her eyes wide as she looked at the things Holly had left behind.

Most of the furniture had been covered by sheets, Holly's things boxed away and soon to be moved to storage. Rabbit frowned deeply, hating to see Holly's things put away. She trailed her fingers over the boxes, peeking inside but leaving everything where it was.

She had gone through Holly's entire room, then looked inside her closet. Old dresses still hung on hangers, and a few boxes were stacked on shelves. One box in particular caught her eye, an old shoebox tied closed with ribbon. She pulled it down, curiosity piqued, and sat on the bed with it.

Carefully, she undid the knot and removed the top. Yellowed papers covered in dust greeted her. She picked one up as gently as possible and unfolded it, hoping that she wouldn't tear the old paper.

Her eyes widened when she recognized Holly's handwriting, as shaky and rushed as it was. For a moment, she considered putting the box away, re-tying it and putting it back on the shelf. Instead, she brought the box with her when she left the room, taking it back to her room to read the letters with a twinge of guilt.

 

A few weeks later, when the three automatons were planning songs, Rabbit spoke up.

“I-I-I had an idea, for a song.” she started. Hatchworth and The Spine looked at her expectantly.

“It's kinda... in-in-inspired by Holly. I think I'll call it _Hold Me_...”

 


End file.
